


Out To Find Our Own Lives

by idk_wat_im_doin_but_im_doin_it



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Rufus Blaiddyd isn’t an asshole for once, first fic, i kinda just wrote this one a whim, idk how to appropriately tag things god help me, like big canon divergence, no beta we die like Glenn, so i apologise if it’s bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-29 00:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21401314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idk_wat_im_doin_but_im_doin_it/pseuds/idk_wat_im_doin_but_im_doin_it
Summary: A king must one day let go of the free reign over the course of his fate so that he may hold the crown. Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd, the crown prince and future king of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus,  won’t.Selfish as it may be, this is his life and he’s determined to live it as he sees fit.
Relationships: Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd/Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Out To Find Our Own Lives

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, like I said in the tags, this is my first ever fic so sorry if it’s bad or if my genius ass managed to format it wrong. Anyway, any feedback would be great!

Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd was only at the still tender age of ten when he realised he was completely and hopelessly in love with his best friend. He had watched his dear friend’s broad smile under the bright gaze of the spring sky, face still soft from childhood joys.

Maybe he hadn’t been able to pinpoint it was love exactly in those early inexperienced years of life, he had felt the deep prodding in his chest every time his dear friend giggled with childish joy. What he had felt then would creep up from deep in his chest and into his young mind and demanded he never be apart from the little boy with the mop of blue hair that never stayed the way it should. That they should remain the way they were now, as they ran through the palace halls, hand in hand as they sought out their latest adventure.

Years later he would recall himself whining at Rodrigue to slow down, to wait for him because he never could keep pace with the boundless bundle of energy that was Rodrigue. Years later he would remember Rodrigue’s snappy little remarks of calling him slow as he continued to tug his sleeve.

“We shouldn’t even be running in the halls,” he had complained between breaths once. Rodrigue huffed, puffing out his small cheeks and he set his hands on his hips,”Since when do you care about the rules? Besides, it’s not my fault you’re so slow.” His young, decade old pride had taken such great offence in that one jab,”I’m not slow!” Rodrigue grinned at the reaction he provoked and argued back,”Yes you are!”

Clumsily, Lambert had made a grab for the edges of his friend’s blue coat, missing by the skin of his teeth as Rodrigue slipped out of his reach. He fussed as his friend slunk away, giggling and calling him names, trying to upset him. He found he didn’t mind if it meant he gave Rodrigue something to smile about.

Lambert chased after him. Determined to see the goofy smile on his friend’s face again and again, he decided at the tender age of ten he would chase that intoxicating, childish joy to the edge of the horizon and beyond if he had to. At the height of his naïvety he was already standing dangerously close to the edge of a chasm, dark with undefined paths. 

At the edge of that dark cavern he remained for years, refusing to lose himself in the uncertainty of what he wanted just yet. 

He remained standing there, only looking over the edge and wondering what could be, until Rodrigue came to him late one night, took his hand and they leapt into the unknown together, hand in hand, just as they had been since as far back as their memory permitted them to see. 

Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd was fourteen years old when he experienced his first kiss.

They had been in his private chambers, just like so many nights before, talking about any and every little thing that came to mind. Sharing the space of his bed wasn’t an excuse for why they had been sitting so terribly close to one another. He could’ve felt the heat coming from Rodrigue’s body, the way his shoulders shook gently as he softly laughed at something Lambert had said, smile just as beautiful as from when they were children. Well, at least that was the prince’s opinion.

“Rodrigue.” Rodrigue hummed softly in response and he drew one of his knees to his chest and set his chin on it,”Can you promise me something?” Rodrigue had blinked slowly, once then twice, long eyelashes fluttering with the motion. The late hours meant for sleeping were beginning to catch up to his dearest friend, but he still responded sounding as sincere as ever,”Of course. Anything.” Lambert has felt his heart seize up in his chest, the tightness he remembered having for years replaced it, as Rodrigue gave him a drowsy but reassuring smile. He wondered if Rodrigue ever knew the kind of power he had over him in that moment.

He swallowed down air,”I know I’m supposed to be king one day,” Rodrigue gave him a strange look as he placed a hand on his friend’s other leg,”but when that happens, you’ll still be my friend right?” Again, Rodrigue blinked, as if struggling to comprehend the question. Slowly he broke out into a smirk, lifting his head from his knee and scoffed,”Like you could get rid of me.” Lambert appreciated the lack of hesitation, easing his sudden newfound anxieties.

Rodrigue tilted his head to one side in confusion,”What brought this on?”

The prince looked away, repeating the question to himself, searching his mind for the answer. What really possessed him to blurt such randomness? He didn’t know. He had never been afraid of Rodrigue leaving his side before, so where had that come from?

The face of his friend consumed his vision and Lambert struggled for breath. The soft candlelight and gentle glow from the starlight looked like a halo against his dark, wavy hair. Pale eyes filled of concern peered into his own, looking to read him as he always had,”Lambert, is something the matter? Has something happened?” He had dumbly shook his head, trying to rid it of the little voices talking about his friend in a way a friends shouldn’t. Something deep inside him burned, yelling orders in unintelligible words. He had never been so directionless yet with a purpose before. 

The future duke’s face hadn’t moved, in fact it had gotten closer. Rodrigue was stifling him without really touching him,”Rodrigue,” he started and didn’t know where he was going to end,”please don’t hate me.” Alarm flashed in Rodrigue’s pale blue eyes at both his words and his sudden movement as the blonde’s hands came up to bury its fingers into the navy locks, pulling his friend’s lips against his own.

He had expected for Rodrigue, someone who had never shown much interest beyond being his close companion, to bite his lip until it bled in disgusted defiance, to kick him away. He knew it was a possibility he would have to deal with Rodrigue shoving him aside and leaving, before he could apologise for their fractured friendship, then maybe never returning. If that were to come true, he didn’t know how he would bear it.

Yet he didn’t have to. Slender fingers, not yet hardened by battle, slid over his shoulders, drawing him closer to their owner. Like prey being lured into a trap, he went without fight. No, making a predator-prey comparison to this was wrong, he knew Rodrigue would never harm him, not in this moment. They had fumbled through some of the steps, inexperienced and clumsy in their growing bodies but they still had gotten drunk off of one another with only the cold winter moon and stars standing as witnesses to their sins.

If this was the uncertainty the abyss beneath their feet harboured, Lambert decided he would gladly take it all if it meant he could’ve felt the brush of their lips again and again, as much as he liked.

From that night they weren’t friends anymore. They were something more, but yet they weren’t lovers. Still two halves of the same whole, they were near inseparable whether it be for classes, meals or sparring, one was never far from the other. 

Brief glances and subtle touches, maybe a hidden gift if they were feeling risky, that was all that outwardly changed. Nobody had suspected them of late night rendezvous after curfew had been called, creeping through darkened hallways. Not a soul thought that the future king and his future advisor would ever be more than just that.

Things had been so simple, so enjoyable for those few months.

Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd was fifteen years old the first he experienced heartbreak.

His tryst would tarnish his family’s honour, he had known that, but he hadn’t cared. He hadn’t cared, but his parents most certainly had, ordering him to break off whatever relationship he and Rodrigue had culminated. They had thought that it been just an ‘experiment’, two youngs boys growing into men and nothing more. They had told him to stop with all his late night ‘flings’ with the young Lord Fraldarius.

Of course he had fought back, trying to bargain with his parents. Through hushed yelling behind closed private doors lest their family reputation be stained, the crown prince learned that while he stands to gain so much power, he loses so much of his freedom. He saw the walls of restriction and rules and social conduct. He hated it. He wanted what he knew lay beyond them, out of his reach.

So he ran, trying to get away from such stifling expectations and stowed himself away in a shadowed corner of the training yard. He remembered how him and Rodrigue would train here as children, small arms struggling to grip the smallest blades and make promises they would grow up to be glorious knights. Side by side they said they would remain, and here he stayed with his face buried in his drawn up knees, cheeks slick with warm tears, alone.

He had shuffled away from approaching footsteps, knowing their weight. He drew his lower lip between his teeth, refusing to look up at his brother even as he felt his older sibling take a seat besides him on the floor. He doesn’t remember what excuse Rufus gave for sitting there with him in the autumn chill for what had felt like hours. He does remember the sympathetic advice his brother had given, that he had listened to.

Listened and followed through with as he pulled Rodrigue aside and away from prying eyes one day. Of course he had taken one look at those earnest blue eyes and felt his planned words elude him. Instead he had just pulled the much smaller noble against his chest, fingers running through that crown of silky deep blue locks tucked under his chin. Any other day he would have loved nothing more than to poke fun at Rodrigue’s bright red face But today was different as he mainly regurgitated what his parents had said to him mere nights before.

He hadn’t known what he expected to happen, but that foolish glimmer of hope in his heart had hoped he wouldn’t have seen that forlorn look on Rodrigue’s face as he pushed away from his chest. The rational portion of his mind had told him that the ever rule abiding Rodrigue would agree with the order his parents had hurled at him. It still hurt him in a way no battle ever could when Rodrigue had twisted out of his arms, regretful eyes refusing to meet his as he muttered,”Maybe we should stop this, Lambert. Before we really go too far.” 

Oh how had he just wanted to open that mouth of his, that had landed in him in so many fights before, and tell Rodrigue that he didn’t care what other people were going to whisper behind his back, that he wanted to go that forbidden distance. But he didn’t, he stayed quiet, keeping those word tucked away behind his lips, like a coward. His price to pay for such inaction was to watch Rodrigue slip away.

For two years they danced around the subject, as if it had been nothing more than a dream. That didn’t mean he never thought about their time together, the way Rodrigue would aways partially cover his face with a hand when he genuinely laughed, how his brows furrowed together when he focused or how a pleasant warmth would spread across his body every time Rodrigue had snuck in a kiss. 

He had traded in Rodrigue’s secret affection for the luxurious cage of a crown prince. He had met so many fair maidens from both within Faerghus and beyond, yet Rufus always seem more interested in them than he was. How glad he was when his acceptance letter into Garreg Mach was handed to him and his parents chased off both him and his brother to settle into their new school. 

Besides being able to escape from so many soirees, he knew Rodrigue would be there. While it stung him to have to always keep Rodrigue at arms reach, he would make do with being Rodrigue’s friend, if he was prohibited from being his lover.

Yet that hadn’t worked out either. Away from those who hovered over their shoulders, constantly correcting and critiquing, they ventured closer to one another again, as if one were made to be drawn to the other. Lambert had done this dance before, he knew the steps and he dared to say he led this time. Jokingly flirtatious comments and unnecessary grazing of wandering hands under the pretence of light-hearted sparring shenanigans, whatever to put them at risk of falling into that deep, dark hole, they did it with near childlike joy of bygone days.

It looked like friendly banter and the foolishness expected of their age to others, but it was really frolicking dangerously close to the abyss they had spent the better part of almost two years trying to distance themselves from. 

But they had failed, and now the unknown roared them once more to just fall in. Would they fall in, hand in hand again? 

Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd was seventeen years old when he took charge of his own fate.

He doesn’t remember how they had ended up like that, but he still thinks that was the work of the Goddess herself.

He lay on his side, dull candlelight glowed behind him, looking back into Rodrigue’s eyes that had caught the glint of the soft ember. How similar all this was to three years ago, the first time he had first taken Rodrigue into his arms as something beyond a friend. How similar this was to the beginning of the pain he went through at fifteen years old, two years ago. That pain was never something he would wish on anybody, much less on himself a second time, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away. To just sit up and insist they read paragraphs of dull text, like they had said they would felt as if he would’ve been going against the will of fate.

Some part of him knew he would end up here, wrapped in the warmth of Rodrigue’s gaze that looked as if it were asking for something else. Something more. The young lord was nothing more than a mirror for his own thoughts.

How long would they remain like this? How long could they remain like this?

It was so easy to pretend they weren’t both going to have to marry some young maiden of their parents’ choosing and produce crest bearing heirs in that moment. To pretend they could be something more than prince and retainer. 

No, they could definitely be something more. They just needed to jump into the unknown, the uncertain, together as they had promised they would have when they were mere children.

Lambert was willing to submerge himself in the darkness if it meant showing Rodrigue it was alright to follow him. Lambert was willing to walk whatever path winded before him, once it wasn’t the predetermined one that had been paved before his birth. Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd, the crown prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, was ready to break out of the highborn prison he had been put in.

His fingers, now calloused with hours of training, ran over the pale expanse of Rodrigue’s cheek, feeling the skin heat up beneath his touch as he tucked a stray lock behind the other’s ear. Doing what he should have done in the first place, almost two full years ago, he opened his mouth and proposed they break away from those chains noble society bound them to.

“Run away with me.”

He had breathed out the words between them and watch Rodrigue draw them in with a quick intake of air,”Lambert…” He had started but never finished, argument lost by the temptation go both freedom and happiness.

Rodrigue had sat up, but never rejected him, not even when Lambert slowly knotted their fingers together, giving him plenty of time to pull away. He didn’t and they held each other’s hands as Lambert watched one hundred and ten thoughts run through Rodrigue’s mind, waiting for an answer. He would wait as long as he would be humanly allowed to if it meant he had the possibility of hearing Rodrigue say he would walk into the void with him.

“I… I need time to think… about all of this…”

Rodrigue said he needed time to think yet held his grip fast on Lambert’s hand when the blonde had tried to slip out to give his now lover space to ponder. He let himself be pulled back onto the mattress, allowed Rodrigue to find peace for his raging thoughts in his slumber against his chest, heart acting a steady lullaby for the young nobleman.

Though he lacked an answer to the question that would decide his future, Lambert’s life became easier to live. It was so much less strenuous to not have to manouever around their feelings. It had felt natural to loosely loop an arm around Rodrigue’s thin waist and render his usually so well composed lover into a flustered mess, even in the eyes of the public. He didn’t have to care anymore, so to hell with whoever saw him plant a loving kiss on Rodrigue’s forehead after a sparring match. He was happy and couldn’t give less of a damn if someone said it should be otherwise.

The negative opinions about their relationship couldn’t even dream of touching him when Rodrigue had pulled the prince into his room one hot summer night and talked to him. Carefully asking about everything. Their families, friends, social status, reputation, future plans, Rodrigue had brought it all up, and Lambert answered as best as he could in earnest. He would never forget the easy smile Rodrigue had given him when he had effortlessly gathered his longtime companion in his arms.

When Rodrigue had quietly nodded that night, eyes resolute, Lambert would feel the flow of fate itself change as they dared to claw their way out of its course and into the unfamiliar world of possibilities that lay themselves out to them now.

Just like when they were barely men, three years ago, they got lost in each other, uncaring of how insufferably hot the air had already been nor if any of their fellow house members had heard them. Though, embarrassing to look back on now, Lambert supposed Rufus had heard them, and his older brother had known what was going to happen. Rufus was never one for words, but his actions had more than compensated when he gave his younger brother a knowing look and rare, genuine smile when he had seen the couple sitting together during one of their lectures. Rufus had definitely known, but he had never once made a move to stop them, never wrote a letter to their parents, nothing. Lambert owed him more than the older Blaiddyd realised.

In fact, in the two years they remained nobody stopped them. Perhaps they hadn’t known, or thought that the prince and young lord wouldn’t go through with it. How Lambert was ready to prove them wrong.

And he did. They both did.

Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd was nineteen years old when he turned his back from his already carved path and set out to make his own, his companion and lover, Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius right beside him, as he had always been. 

Rodrigue had slipped into the darkened stables some minutes after he had, whole body enveloped in a dark cloak that made him nothing more than a drop in the endless ocean of the night. His eyes were still damp after what would have been a most definitely emotional parting from his younger brother and Lambert wanted nothing more than to ease him out of such heartache. But not right now, he was no longer pressed for time to do so. Now, he had until his own heart gave out to soothe Rodrigue’s worries, both present and future.

Tugging on his own cloak and double checking their belongings in the moonlight, he let Rodrigue prepare their horses for their journey. They had worked quietly and efficiently, knowing they would have more chances to mix their actions with words.

Atop their horses, Lambert gazed over at his lover and partner in crime, eyes bright and ready to face the darkness that loomed before them,”Second thoughts?” Rodrigue didn’t look at him, too transfixed on what he couldn’t see on the horizon, but breathed out,”None.”

Lambert had ample experience with horseback riding and had been on hundreds, if not thousands, but none had ever made him feel so alive. No hunt had ever made the blood rush in his veins with such vigour, such eagerness to go just a little further to catch the unseen prey before him. With every pound of hooves against the ground and ragged breath the monastery grew further away and his bindings to noblility fell away.

They hadn’t stopped until the academy was just a distant glint against the black canvas the night had made it. The torches of it burning bright with alarm as there was no doubt by now, at least someone knew they were missing. It didn’t matter if their escape had been noticed or not, nobody had the faintest clue where two noblemen who had never lived a day off the lap of luxury would go. By the time they even started in the right direction, they both be long gone. 

“Lambert.” Rodrigue softly called when they had settled down for both them and the horses to rest. Lambert hummed, still marvelling at how perfectly Rodrigue’s body fit against his, as if it where meant to be so. Shuffling ever closer, Rodrigue twisted in his arms, turning himself around so he lay face to face with Lambert,”What are we going to do? You know our families will search high and low for us, so we dare not set foot in Faerghus.”

Lambert smiled softly at his lover, finally able to freely ease his lover’s worries with light kisses to the other’s forehead,”Rodrigue, you worry too much. We have all the time and the entire world waiting for us.” Such a directionless answer would never please the well ordered Rodrigue, but truthfully Lambert had no clue where they would run to now. He felt so lost but had never felt so liberated. Never in his life as crown prince, he had never been given a chance to choose where he wanted his life to go beyond the throne.

Rodrigue opened his mouth to voice his concerns, but Lambert tenderly hushed him by sealing his lips with his own, trying to commit the feeling to memory. One hand wandered up Rodrigue’s back and threaded in his soft, navy hair, pressing endless feather light kisses against whatever of Rodrigue’s pale, warm skin he could get to,”Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out, together.” Rodrigue pulled his face to his, into another slow but searing kiss,”Together.”

Lambert was twenty seven and never been more free.

He sat atop a jagged rock, high enough on a hill that he could get a clear view of the glowing, setting sun. The spring’s wind, cool and lively, blew past him, whipping the golden locks of hair that couldn’t be drawn back into his short mess of a ponytail in whatever way it willed. A familiar weight settled snuggly against his side and one of his hands occupied holding another’s. Some flyaway locks of dark hair tickling against the side of his neck.

He would never tire listening to Rodrigue’s steady breath.

Gently he shifted his arm, shaking Rodrigue’s unmoving form as he did,”Did those bandits really tire you out so badly, dear?” Rodrigue moved, putting more of his weight against his lover,”No, but making sure you didn’t get your stupid ass killed did.” Lambert shook his head and gave a throaty laugh at at that,”You know better than that. No random bandit would get the best of me.” Rodrigue huffed out a disbelieving hum and gently squeezed his hand.

Lambert glanced over to the to the top of his lover’s head. The deep blue curls had lost some of their shine and softness after nearly a decade of living day to day on whatever jobs their skill with a blade picked up, and away from the luxurious privileges they had grown up with. But Lambert still enjoyed carding his fingers the often tangled mess all the same. Feeling the idle scrutiny, Rodrigue tilted his head to look at him, their eyes meeting. The icy blue of Rodrigue’s eyes were weary but alert as every wandering mercenary should be.

Rodrigue had went from fitting into the ideals of a near perfect knight to the practices of a near perfect sellsword. He was almost jealous at the easy shift Rodrigue had made from one to another.

He was right, they had figured it out. Though it taken them the earlier years of their freedom to shake the trackers their parents had set on them, despite the fact they were still unsure if it was alright to set foot in Faerghus without being recognised, they were still free and they were together. It didn’t matter if they far away from their childhood home, near the middle of nowhere with no witnesses around them, minus the muted glinting of the appearing stars.

Lambert’s grip on Rodrigue’s hand tightened for a moment, feeling the simple band around the finger where it mattered the most through the worn but well taken care of leather of Rodrigue’s gloves, and smiled bright enough to compensate for the fading rays of sunlight.

Night would be upon them soon and they would settle in for the night together in their temporary camp, stealing each other’s warmth to keep out the night’s chill. Then they would rise with the sun, pack up and leave to face whatever challenges the world saw fit to throw at them in the new day. An uncontrollable rhythm of unpredictable repetition.

Looking down at a tired but content Rodrigue, Lambert decided he would take all those challenges with a smile. They were together after all, just as though two little boys of yesteryear said they would be as they lay on the dusty ground of the training yard, promising to grow up and enter knighthood side by side.

Well, what can he say now? This wasn’t knighthood or anything close to it, but those two boys had remained together straight into adulthood. They kept their promise, they were together as planned, and happy. They were free, no chains of nobility could hold them back anymore. Lambert was no longer a Blaiddyd and Rodrigue was no longer a Fraldarius. Now they were just two nomadic mercenaries.

Rodrigue returned the warm smile and Lambert decided he would have never have it any other way, as he drew his longtime lover’s face closer to his.


End file.
